His big, calloused hand rests on my thigh, as strong and rough as I imagined it would be. Before I can answer, a sound carries down from upstairs.
A soft laugh followed by a breathless moan.
I freeze, recognition hitting almost instantly as Joelle’s voice filters through the quiet, followed by a lower groan.
“Oh my God,” I murmur, pressing my lips together as a laugh slips out anyway.
Mason lets out a low chuckle. “Sounds like someone has plans for the night.”
Brookes takes a slow drink, his gaze fixed where the horizon would be, his whole body tensed.
The sounds fade after a moment, leaving the silence, heavy with awareness. Every point of contact sharpens. The press of denim against my skin. The heat on either side of me. The slow, easy sway of the swing beneath us.
I should go inside.
That thought comes and stays, clear and reasonable.
I should.
Of course I should.
Every sensible part of me knows it. My mother’s voice is so clear in my mind it’s like she’s sitting across from me, watching.“What do you think you’re doing, Janey? Sitting on a swing with two men like that. Wearing indecent clothing. Get inside before you make a mistake you’ll regret. Didn’t I raise you better?”
But with the air charged with intention and two men close enough to feel their heat and power, it seems tonight, the sensible parts of me have left the building. Or, I’m set on banishing them.
I remain where I am, my thighs pressed tightly, warmth swelling in parts that have been unused for too long, vibrating with sexual tension and rebellion.
Mason’s hand gently squeezes my thigh, a hint of what could be. My breath catches as I turn my head toward him. His gaze is already on me, intent in a way that sends a shudder through me.
“Janey?”
It sounds like a question.
Is this okay? Is this what you want? Is this why you came out and sat between my brother and me, wearing skimpy pajamas?
Yes. Yes. And hell yes!
His hand slides up, fingers brushing higher, parting my tightly clasped flesh as he leans in. I meet him halfway, my hand curling into his shirt as his mouth finds mine, and god, the kiss is warm and unhurried, making my thoughts blur at the edges. His confidence anchors me even as everything inside me shifts.
I’m doing this. I’m really doing this.
Mason’s hand moves again, gripping my hip, guiding me closer.
My breath catches as he draws away to turn my face to the side, bringing Brookes into view. Brookes watches me for a brief moment, his gaze dropping to my mouth before lifting again.
A pause stretches between us.
I’m offered a choice.
I feel it clearly.
Do you want my brother?
Maybe this is a family thing. Their two cousins seem more than happy in a relationship with one woman. Maybe the Fletcher brothers move as a unit, too. I shiver as the wrongness and the rightness of being offered another man coalesce between my thighs.
I lean toward Brookes, whose dark eyes spark with excitement.
His kiss is different, curling through me as he moves, deeper and slower, patient, as though he’s waiting to see if I’ll withdraw once my senses hit.
